


Satisfaction

by entity



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexuality, Bloating, Bromance, Chubby Kink, Good Gal Lydia Martin, M/M, Makeouts, Recreational Drug Use, Starting relationship, Stuffing, Teasing, Wingman Lydia, alcohol consumption, both? both, but not spies, encourager, feeder, gainer, gay espionage, intentional weight gain, lusty dudes doing a little bit of stuff, more like seduction, unintentional weight gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 09:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entity/pseuds/entity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has gotten pretty pudgy during his Freshman year. He hasn't seen his friends in a good while and he's worried about what they'll think about his new shape. But his fears become intrigue when he notices he's getting some positive attention from some unexpected places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satisfaction

Stiles climbed out of his Jeep and adjusted his shirt. It was too small but it was the best he could find. The fabric hugged his little belly and showed off the divet of his belly button. Whatever, he thought to himself. Lydia was having a get together to celebrate the end of her and her friends’ freshman year of college. It had been a whirlwind of a year and Stiles hadn’t seen most of them in a while. He, Scott and Lydia had all gone to the same University, but it was big and no longer being on the lacrosse team had made it difficult for him to see Scott regularly. Lydia was in a multitude of committees and clubs, so she was always occupied. The only time they were really together was when there was something supernatural to deal with, which outside of Beacons Hills, was not very often. So summer beginning was a perfect opportunity for everyone to be in the same place.  
In contrast to her infamous lake house parties, this event was strictly for the pack. Stiles initially felt some trepidation about coming to the shindig, fearing what his friends would say seeing him bloated like he was. In the space between high school and the present, Stiles had taken on some new habits. Without lacrosse to occupy him he fell into a cycle of laziness. He attended parties and went to class but in his spare time he had little to do but eat. So Stiles spent his spare time indulging. He’d decided lacrosse wasn’t his route after high school, so he’d quit the sport. He was never very good at it anyway, so what was the point in pretending? He’d much rather binge watch netflix and stuff his face. And as he did so he noticed something peculiar. When he was full, when his body felt at its limits and he slipped into a comfortable malaise of gluttony, he was fascinated with his own abdomen. The way it stretched over the waistband of his pants, taut and round...aroused him. Somewhere deep in his subconscious he’d tapped into an interest he was unaware he had. He wasn’t really embarrassed about it, everybody had their kinks, this one must be one of his. Derek looked like he like chaining people to walls and he was almost sure Lydia did. She oozed dominatrix. So Stiles was into stuffing himself, so what? He shamelessly pursued his satisfaction, eating much more than any one person should whenever he was alone. He’d take boxes of snacks up to his room and eat alone, massaging his palm into his stomach as it began to ache from pushing the limits of its capacity. It came to be a ritual for him. He would come home from school, turn on a movie, light the occasional bowl and pig out. He was fortunate enough to get into a nicer housing unit, where each student had a private bedroom, so he never gave a second thought to what his roommates would think. Over the year he’d far exceeding the freshman fifteen and he was sure people would be taking notice. Even when he hadn’t eaten, his belly pushed out above his waistband, his chest had expanded ever so slightly and he was overall pudgier. He wasn’t fat, necessarily, but at 190 pounds he was comfortably plump. 

Now he was back at home. He was getting homemade meals and had a consistent supply of food. He would go to dinner with his father, eat as much as he could force into himself and call it a night. The Sheriff didn’t seem to mind, he took it as a compliment. Before he left his house he’d binged, just a little, but enough for him to feel the familiar pressure in his midsection. Stiles pulled a hoodie over his head in an attempt to make himself less obvious but it only helped a little.By the time his eating habits started to have visual effects, it was cold out and his hoodies and sweaters masked it well. But now it was summer and he was back to t-shirts, and his bodily changes were apparent Fuck it, he resolved as he headed around the house and into the backyard. The smell of fire drifted over him as he noticed the small pit blazing in the middle of a circle of lawn chairs. Lydia was perched delicately on the one farthest from Stiles, sitting at the center looking like some kind of monarch as she casually chatted with Allison. Kira and Malia lounged, holding beers and looking like they were laughing at something. Derek’s surly face  
“Hey, man, long time, no see.”  
“Jesus, you can’t just sneak up on people like that, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Stiles flailed at him, stumbling back a foot.  
“Sorry man, I forget you don’t hear as well as I do.” Scott chuckled. Stiles glared daggers at him.  
“Oh haha, let’s all make fun of the human.”  
“Aw come on, you're my favorite human.” Scott threw a haphazard arm around Stiles shoulder and planted a goofy kiss on his best friend’s forehead. Stiles colored violently as blood rushed to his face. He quickly pushed Scott off of him and hoped he hadn’t noticed the reaction.  
“Ahh, get off me ya fuckface.” Stiles chuckled nervously “Now where’s the beer, I want one.”

Placing himself between Isaac and Scott and popped the beer open. There was a tray of barbecue by the fire and he helped himself to a burger. His friends made idle conversation about new developments in their lives, about flings and parties and school. Stiles piped in between mouthfuls of food or beer. He was enjoying himself, slowly beginning to feel the dull ache of fullness. Surreptitiously, he laid a hand on his stomach inside the pocket of his hoodie and stroked it in small circles.He’d begun to feel pretty blissful in his tipsiness but something wasn’t quite right. Even through his increasing drunken haze, Stiles could feel eyes on him. It wasn’t like anyone was staring at him but he could sense the attention being paid to him. Sweeping across the pack with his eyes, he stopped briefly on each of them before deciding they weren’t the culprit. When he got to Lydia’s face he noticed Lydia’s knowing glances, she met his eyes but that wasn’t the unnerving sensation he got. It wasn’t Lydia, but she noticed what Stiles was noticing. He wasn’t stupid, he was, in fact, very smart. Smart enough to notice when someone was trying their best not to be noticed. Even with all of his superhuman reflexes and perception and with Stiles’ decreased mental capacity, Stiles had known Scott long enough to know when he was acting abnormally. It was Scott, he kept lingering on his friend with his eyes, just long enough for Stiles to notice, but by the time he turned to check it out, Scott had already turned away. But he couldn’t figure out why Scott was being so dodgy. 

Scott was stealing glances, fidgeting and avoiding eye contact, all with this goofy ass smile on his face. And it all got worse when Stiles would massage his abdomen to relieve the pressure he’d built up. He was acting almost like a schoolgirl with a crush and a fat fetish. Stiles’ heart jumped at the realization. Was Scott acting like this because of him? Was he infatuated with Stiles? Even more important, was he acting like this because of Stiles’ new physique? His curiosity was peaked and his near-nonexistent sex life implored him to pursue this lead. He couldn’t ask Scott directly, that would be too awkward and it was far too public for confessions of repressed sexuality, especially of the abnormal sort.. So he decided to play a game. He needed to make sure he was right in his suspicions, so he put on a show. He more openly caressed his belly, making sure Scott could see it. He pressed more food into his mouth, despite the insistent pain in his gut.  
“Goddamn I’m a pig.” Stiles muttered to himself, but he knew Scott could hear. He knew because when he turned to him, he caught him staring at Stiles’ stomach and the hand he was resting upon it. He practically had his tongue lolling out of his mouth, it was honestly embarrassing, and Stiles was thriving on it. He started to open his mouth and comment on Scott’s shameless lust but he was conveniently interrupted by Liam.

“Dude, do you want a hit?” Liam was standing over Stiles, offering him a joint. He hadn’t noticed him standing there and he wondered how much he’d observed. “Or are you feelin the beer too much? You’re kinda spaced out.” Liam chuckled and Stiles took the joint, returning the laugh.  
“I’ll have you know I’m a pro, Liam.” Stiles rebutted, taking a deep hit and stretching his arm toward Scott without looking.  
“Scotty boy?” Stiles slowly turned to Scott and smirked at him.  
“Y-yeah bro” Scott hastily took the pot, looking glad to have been given a distraction. Stiles scoffed, a bit annoyed his plot was interrupted, but he hadn’t given up yet.  
“Scott help me go get more beer.” Stiles stood and swayed ever so slightly.  
“Dude I don’t think you need any more beer.” Scott reached out and placed a hand on Stiles’ arm.  
“I’m fine, Scotty,” Stiles drawled out, slipping his hand around Scott’s wrist.  
Scott began to jerk away but thought better of it, instead speaking in a less than even tone, “Stiles, you’re drunk.”  
“I’d like a beer,” Lydia piped up. “In the fridge, bottom shelf. Bring both cases.” She gave Stiles a knowing smile and returned to her conversation.  
“The lady wants a beer, Scott.” Stiles gestured vaguely in Lydia’s direction, before grabbing Scott’s arms with both hands and hauling him up. 

Stiles sauntered off into the house with a hand lazily rubbing his distended gut. He made his way to the kitchen and made a beeline for the fridge. Throwing it open, he discovered some leftover pizza slices. Hoping Lydia wouldn’t mind too much, he grabbed one and began to stuff it into his face. He was honestly at his limit but he needed to see this out. The curiosity in him was too strong to ignore at this point. 

Turning to Scott with a hand on his stomach and a mouthful of food, he moaned “Dude I am so stuffed.” He made a show of it, throwing his head back and groaning again.  
“Well then why do you keep eating?” Scott wouldn’t look at him straight on, he kept looking away and glancing back as if Stiles’ eyes (or maybe his gut) would turn him to stone.  
“Because I like food. I mean if you hadn’t noticed I’m a fatass these day, I mean look at this.” Stiles lifted his shirt and grabbed his stomach by either side before jiggling it violently.  
It was pretty taut, stretched tight from the inordinate amount of food he’d consumed in the last few hours, but it still moved. A layer of pliable fat sat on top of his bloated stomach and bounced freely, his fingers sank in before hitting the solid mass below. For a moment he was distracted from why he started playing with himself in the first place. He felt himself becoming aroused as he sunk his fingers into his bloated belly, losing himself briefly. He he snapped out of it and looked up at Scott, the werewolf was frozen in place. His jaw had gone slack, leaving his mouth wide open, his hands gripped the edge of the counter and his face was flushed. His chest was softly heaving and his eyes were dark, focused, determined. Stiles smirked and tilted his head, taking in his best friend’s state without stopping his ministrations to his gut. 

“Scotty, you should let the countertop go before you shatter it.” Scott didn’t respond and he didn’t move.  
“Scott!” Stiles snapped his fingers in front of the other boy’s face.  
“Why’d you stop?” Scott almost whispered.  
“What?” was all Stiles could manage to get out of his mouth before Scott’s tongue jumped into it.  
“Why’d you stop?” Scott practically whined into Stiles’ mouth.

The wolf placed one hand around Stiles’ abdomen and the other firmly gripped his ass. Stiles stood there and placidly returned the kiss for a moment, unsure of how exactly to handle the situation before pushing back into it. He could feel Scott’s muscular body pressing against his strained skin and he thrust his hands into Scott’s hair, grasping and pulling. He pulled Scott’s face away from his forcefully, and was rewarded with pointed teeth pulled into a lusty grimace. 

“Fuck Scott if you wanted to kiss me so bad, you could’ve just asked. I’ve been waiting forever to get into those lacrosse shorts.” Stiles nipped at Scott’s exposed neck before planting a trail of kisses down to his collarbone. “Why didn’t you tell me we played for the same team?”  
“I was gonna tell you tonight,” Scott growled through bared teeth, “But you keep fuckin teasing me.”  
“Teasing you? You mean like this?” Stiles grabbed Scott’s hands and pressed them into him. 

Scott’s hands were strong, they moved in small circles before giving way to wider arcs. He pressed firmly against Stiles but managed to somehow remain gentle, delicate even. Veins crisscrossing across the backs of Scott’s hands slowly darkened, taking the dull ache and discomfort from Stiles’ body. Stiles’ hand slid up Scott’s arms and laced around his neck as he entered a blissful state of werewolf mojo-induced comfort. Scott pushed his hips forward, pressing himself closer, desperately trying to memorize the sensation he was feeling, he wanted to imprint it upon his consciousness. 

“Who knew you were sucha kinky fuck, Scotty.” Stiles purred.  
“You’re one to talk. Have you been doing this on purpose?” Scott hefted Stiles’ belly for emphasis.  
“Not at first. But being a fatass suits me, don’t ya think?” Stiles wiggled his hips goofily.  
“Hell yeah it does, the things I’m gonna do to you…”  
“As much as I want to take you up on that, we’re in Lydia’s kitchen and if she finds us in the middle of adventures in freaky fetish sex, she’s going to murder the both of us.” Scott responded by grinding his crotch against Stiles’. “Scotty, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”  
“Fine,” Scott relented, “But give me a minute to cool off.”

When Stiles and Scott returned to their friends they were met by a painfully smug Lydia. Plucking a bottle of beer from the case Stiles carried, she gave him an imperceptible lift of an eyebrow which he greeted with a cocky smile. 

“Took you long enough.” Was all she said before returning to her seat. 

Stiles spent the rest of the night anxiously awaiting his opportunity to sneak off with Scott. The warm lull of alcohol and the fuzzy haze of pot made him a little sleepy but mostly it made him horny. Not that it was particularly difficult to make him horny but his short dalliance with Scott had put him on edge and he just wanted to get back to one of their places and release his frustration on him. To make things worse, Scott kept catching his eye and making little motions to entice him. He kept licking his lips or putting his thumb in his mouth. Stile responded by giving himself little rubs, making goofy faces and biting his lips. At some point people began to filter out. Derek was the first to announce his departure, citing some pack business he had to look after. He took Liam and Isaac with him, the latter of which told Stiles he smelled like arousal on his way out. Stiles glared and received a lazy smile for his efforts. Kira left next, claiming her parents wanted to take her to breakfast. Malia and Allison were last to leave, and Stiles had begun to lead Scott back to his jeep, slipping a hand into Scott’s back pocket. Lydia said goodnight to the pair of not-so-discreetly flirtatious boys by locking Scott’s wrist in a vicegrip and pointing a perfectly manicured finger in her startled face.

“Do not let him drive home.” She commanded, placing Stiles’ keys in Scott’s hands and turning to Stiles to address him. “You’re going to get home and drink a glass of water, hydrate yourself and don’t you dare complain about me allowing you the hangover that we all know is coming for you.Now you too have fun.” She slipped them a tiny smile and began gathering up whatever was left around the fire pit.

“How’d she get my keys?” 

Stiles clammered into the passenger seat of his Jeep and reclined his seat as far as it would go, getting comfortable as Scott started the engine and pulled off. The gentle rocking and bouncing of the vehicle served to make him incredibly comfortable as his hands drew lazy circles across his abdomen, pulling his shirt up enough to let a crescent-shaped strip of his belly free. 

“Scott, ‘m so stuffed.” Stiles murmured before belching, “ ‘scuse me” 

As his inebriation began to wane, he became more aware of the dull ache beneath his stretched skin and began to massage it with a touch more vigor, hoping to dissuade the feeling of being overfed and replace it with the contentment he associated with a state of excess. His efforts made little headway before Scott reached one hand across the gap between them and began to caress him. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was a result of the werewolf’s sympathetic pain relief or the blood leaving his aching stomach and pooling in the growing bulge in his groin, but something about Scott’s touch soothed him more than he could hope. He placed a hand on top of the broad, faintly bronze hand of his best friend and followed as it traced lazy circles across Stiles’ body. Scott would occasionally squeeze or pinch him, causing him a touch of pain. But this was the pleasant kind of pain. The kind that comes when a lover’s vigor becomes more assertive, the kind that Stiles knew meant that Scott was having a hard time not pulling the jeep over to engage in another session of locked lips and labored breath. The thought of it was becoming a bit much for Stiles and all he wanted to do was offer himself to his best friend so that they could simultaneously explore the deepest aspects of their attraction; aspects that had been taboo until recently. But Stiles was far too hammered to muster that kind of energy. Instead he huffed and rolled his hips, muttering Scott’s name in frustration over his own inability to get it together. 

“We’re gonna sleep in my bed tonight. And when you wake up, I’ll make you breakfast. Mom is away for the weekend, we have the whole place to ourselves.” Scott punctuated the end of his sentiment by roughly palming the heft of Stiles’ recently acquired girth in his large hand. “And then after I’ve fed you up nice and round I’m gonna make you cum so hard you won’t see straight.”  
Stiles snorted out a laugh, his face splitting into a goofy smile. “Scotty, you’re really corny at dirty talk. How’d Allison put up with ya?” 

“I’ll have you know, I’m an amazing lover!” Scott’s lopsided smile caught Stiles’ eye and he just stared for a while. “Alright, we’re here. Lemme help you up, fatty.” Scott lifted himself out of the jeep and made his way to the passenger door.

“I’m not so fat I can’t walk, asshole.” Stiles slurred as he nearly fell face first onto the driveway.  
“Maybe not but you are so drunk you can’t walk.” 

Scott carried Stiles to his bed on his back, the latter’s arms looped around the former’s neck and his face nestled in the werewolf’s neck. He smelled like masculinity, sporty soap and something Stiles couldn’t explain. Whatever it was, it made Stiles more comfortable than he could express in his compromised state, so instead he happily sighed into his best friend. Scott draped Stiles over his bed and went about undressing. Seeing this, Stiles followed suit, sloppily stripping himself of his own garments and flailing his way into Scott’s bed. Scott climbed in behind him, lining his pelvis up with Stiles’ hips. 

“Stiles wait, are you naked?” Scott chuckled, his breath tickling the back of Stiles’ neck.  
“Are you not?”  
“Fair enough.” Scott wiggled out of his briefs and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ middle.


End file.
